The Machiavelli Interface Read Online Free PDF Page A

correct mix in storage there, to simulate a human body under chemscan. By the time the room was destroyed, I was half a klick away."
    The old man nodded. Khadaji's mind raced, seeking to answer the obvious second part of that question, searching for a way to speak the literal truth without giving away something he did not want revealed.
    "How did you know the room would be imploded?" Damn. There it was. He had to speak very carefully. "I wasn't positive it would be." That was true enough. "But the drug room was equipped with reaper locks, armored door and walls, and a densecris window. Nobody was going to get to me just using a .177 Parker." That was also the truth. "The Lojt in charge would know better than to use explosives in a confined space like the Jade Flower. Implosive charges are the logical method of attack on an inside stronghold." All true, but skirting the real question being asked. Was it enough?
    Venture looked down at his desk, at the read giving him the results of the electronic telemetry focused upon Khadaji. For what seemed a long time, he stared at the small holoproj. "All right."
    Khadaji wanted to relax, but he held himself carefully, trying not to show any signs of relief.
    "Your mythmaking worked," Venture said. "Despite all our attempts to suppress it, what you did got out. You took out over two thousand Confederation troopers in the six months you operated, all by spasm paralysis."
    "Two thousand three hundred and eighty-eight," Khadaji said. His face was serious.
    Venture nodded. "You would have kept count."
    "Yes."
    "That in itself is a remarkable achievement. No single guerrilla ever did that well before. But without missing a shot, according to our tally of your ammunition, that is more than remarkable, it's incredible. Are you really that good?"
    Khadaji shook his head. "No. I missed shots. I had a secret cache of darts. I went to it eight times."
    Venture shook his head. "Only eight times. It's still amazing." Khadaji heard grudging admiration in his voice. Then Venture said, "But The Man Who Only Missed Eight Times doesn't have quite the same ring, does it?"
    "No. Myths need to be larger than life, to work. A man who makes mistakes, if only a few, is not so impressive as one who never fails."
    "So you set yourself up as something to strive for."
    "Yes."
    Venture didn't bother to look at his monitoring screen. "If I had a hundred like you, I could rule the galaxy," he said.
    Time to plant a seed. Khadaji said, "There are a hundred like me, Marshal Venture. At least three of them can out-shoot me without effort, and the same three could defeat me in fair bare-handed combat. A dozen more will be able to do both within a short time, if they continue to practice. They are the matadors I have been training during the seven years since I left Greaves. The Confed, in its infinite wisdom, recently declared them all criminals."
    For a long time, Over-Befalhavare Venture said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was charged with fear and respect: "Christus! What did we do to deserve you?"
    * * *
    Dirisha shifted to her left, firing her spetsdöd as she moved. The weapon coughed, and the dart caught the trooper under the chin. His body spasmed, and he curled into an instant fetus, muscles locked by electrochemical poison.
    He wouldn't die, but he'd spend six months in the lock, despite the best medical aid available.
    The scene was unreal, lit in multiple shades of ghostly green. To an unaided eye the corridor was pitch dark; to one wearing spookeyes, the available light was amplified millions of times. The troopers were blind, easy targets for the matadors—until somebody could repair the emergency lighting system. They had, Dirisha estimated, seventeen minutes.
    Red gestured from the corner, and Geneva and Sleel darted around the bend after him. Dirisha followed at a run. So far, her transceiver was silent—
    Bork and Mayli were outside, guarding the exit and maintaining the perimeter against any